An Introduction of Sorts, In Progress [Bitchy Amazon Tag; MINE]

Nazomi
Unique Trait:

Rewards:
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Custom Jutsu:

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Custom Jutsu:

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The air split with a chirping scream; the cacophony silencing only as the target fell. Or rather the upper half of the torso fell, sliding off the diagonal cut that had torn through both chest and back. Suzumegiri could not be pleased that its blade was fed with straw dummies, but Nazomi could not indulge his beloved blade with a more human opponent. Not without the harsh repercussions that would follow. Perhaps if her were to wander outside the village for a bit the genin would stumble across bandits or such other ilk. People whom would not be missed, nor would bring down the anger of others on his head. It just didn’t seem right to deny the spear the one thing it radiated when exposed to. The one thing that made the song it sang something beautiful, rather than that symphony of screeching he had become used to. Not when it gave him the feeling that for once he was complete.

For the time being, even with the heavy feeling it left in his heart to do so, Nazomi released his grip on the weapon only to watch it disperse into particles of light that bore into his arm to hide. Once again it was a part of him, though in a much more subtle way than when he held it. Even now he could feel the desires of the weapon, begging, constantly attacking his thoughts with horrific images it wished him to turn into reality. As much as the necromancer wished he could fulfill the wants it expressed so freely, he could not. Slowly the feelings it forced on him faded; silenced by his own will rather than give into those more unreasonable addictions once again.

The training dummies were fine left where they had fallen. If need be, Nazomi could always purchase more. As of yet though, the supply room had yet to fall barren of such tools. The dojo was just far enough that the idea of making the several trips necessary to clean up the pieces seemed too much of a bother. It would be a waste of time and energy considering he wished to make use of the equipment within to further train. His regiment was far from complete after all. The weapon kata had merely been a way of stretching, getting used to the spear as a means of striking at a foe.

Hopefully the weighted bags within the strange building would be able to withstand his more interesting attacks. Seeing as the facility was once used for the purpose of the Kaguya clan honing their abilities he would hope the equipment was made to suit that purpose. It looked so simple on the outside, almost like a house, a plain, dull house. But the spacious interior was almost awe inspiring. How those dimensions worked was beyond the necromancer, seeing that math and the like had never been his strong point. All that mattered is that the abandoned facility was rather quiet; allowing him to practice without interruption or sudden incursion while so busy.

It was as Nazomi reached for the heavy wooden sliding doors that allowed entrance into the building that he heard something from within. Unable to place exactly what it was, the only thing he could truly be sure of was that someone else had found it. Such a shame, considering he had hoped to get more done this day. But–perhaps this would be intruder would be more helpful than they realized. If they were and outsider...there was no harm in exercising his more violent fantasies. If they weren’t, perhaps he would have a sparring partner. Now that was a more compelling idea. It had been so long since he had fought under the pretense of just testing ability. It often proved just as much fun if not more than mindless butchering. Though that too had needs only it could fulfill. Either way, the genin would find out shortly, stepping through the doorway with newly sprouting claws.

Name: Adachi Janos
Level/Rank: 1/Genin
Rewards: Jutsu below, LP if applicable.

Decisions; life abounds with them. They can be as simple as to turn right or left, or they can alter the course of one's life forever. When one wields significant power, the scope of the world can be changed by nothing more than one simple decision. It boils down to this; make the right choice, for the consequences of doing otherwise can be disastrous.

Such choices often manifest in the lives of those who strive to achieve power, as if life itself attempts to stop certain individuals from achieving greatness without a price. Sometimes the price is too much to pay; others, it is but a trivial thing, inconsequential to both chooser and observer. Yet perhaps there is more to be seen...

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Janos struggled through the troublesome flora, searching for something that he was told was hidden here. Though he possessed the abilities of the warlike Kaguya clan, no one had taken the time to fill him in about their barbaric past or potency in battle. He had very limited knowledge and use of his abilities, but that would change. That was why he was here.

He had heard mention that there was a long-lost Kaguya training facility concealed in the nearby woods. Knowledge of his ancestors called to him; the past a potent lure. He had no idea what, if anything, he would find there. Perhaps it would be deserted, leaving him with nothing more then a few fresh scrapes and scars.

This possibility had occurred to him, yes, but was it but a trivial thing, almost inconsequential, for the riches of his past that this place may reveal. Perhaps, with the power of his Kaguya heritage, his fate would be his to govern, to control; he would be able to chart his own path in life, to make his own values, his own decisions. The power of choice can grant a staggering amount of power to those without it. Those who give it up are nothing but fools, for choice is much more than a trivial thing...

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He reached the top of the summit, pushing aside the vines that clung to his clothes and searched for his eyes. There it stood, majestic, at the zenith of the peak. It was almost too much for the newly-dubbed ninja to see the object of his search revealed so easily. He heard a noise from inside, but dismissed it as the wind, or some woodland creature. He stood, captured by the awe of the knowledge surely to be found within. The key to unlocking the power hidden in his very bones lay in front of him...if he could only get inside.

"Damnit!" Janos shouted, frustrated at being denied his goal so simply.

There must be another way inside...These doors won't budge. Typical.

He tried the doors again, but they remained steadfastly shut. He clenched his teeth, feeling his anger rise…then stopped and looked around.

There has to be a logical answer…I have to stop getting worked up so easily; I’m a ninja now, after all.

He laughed degradingly; he knew he was no different than he was before. Just as flawed, just as imperfect, just as helpless…

He paced around the building’s perimeter, seeing no opening in sight. He sat down on a nearby rock, to survey the area and his dilemma, but no solution presented itself. But wait, there! On the roof! There appeared to be what was once a skylight, now nothing more than a hole into the interior. He approached the wall of the building cautiously, attempting to do something he hadn’t tried before.

He focused a small amount of chakra into his feet and placed one against the wall. He felt a little burst of pride; it supported his weight! He continued to ascend the building, transcending the vertical, beaming all the while. Eventually, he reached the top; his chakra slightly diminished, he took a brief moment to rest. The opening was right before him, yawning invitingly, but the roof was slippery! He lost his footing for that one essential moment, and slipped through the hole, falling inside his destination.

Instinctually, he used the power granted to him by his Kaguya heritage, extending his finger and toe bones into sharp talons and digging them in the walls in a futile attempt to slow his fall. He still crashed to the ground quite hard, with a clatter, a bang, and a muffled squeal of pain. He picked himself up off of the ground gingerly, feeling for any injuries, and froze; there was someone else in the building. He had no time to do anything but hide the talons on his feet and hands from view before the door creaked slowly open…

Once; once it had been beautiful. Once the now tattered walls knew of pride, of history. With plaster missing, and mural torn, it had been hard to decipher the images that had been so painstakingly painted. But oh so carefully one could piece together what they had once been, the feral creatures that no longer formed a complete work. Pieces of body were strewn about the various other walls of the room, but they were unique from the rather meek representation of people. Those of red skin, dyed in the blood of enemy and ally alike. Wherever this life washed flesh appeared, so did another piece of the features. Where hands were seen, bone weaponry was oft accompany to it. Where faces were seen, elongated fangs and piercing eyes were typical. They were monsters; Oni shown tearing apart any human in their path; Berserkers whom died in such rage that their end poisoned the chi of living creatures that neared it. A dedication to the Kaguya and their deeds.

Whether it had been a reminder, or graffiti done in spite, it added a certain touch to the dilapidated facility. The floor had worn well for its age, the old woven mats that lay atop the hard wooden floor excellent for landing against when sparring. Though, judging from the dust that had collected on them, that had been some time ago. The same spoke true of the various training dummies that sat scattered about the room. Their only company seemed to be the posts that held the structure up. The only reason the supports held were thanks to the metal plating that secured the weakened beams. A patch job that had been done as a favor to Nazomi after he had happened upon the building. He hadn’t the ryou to pay for the work it required.

His attention fell toward the boy. In his reverence for his surroundings Nazomi had neglected to pay the attention such a visitor deserved. There was really no point in any other person coming in search of the dojo unless they thought to see what once had been. For that kind of desire, few aside from those whom related to the blood shared and shed in this place, would ever bother making the trip. The necromancer would confirm this of course, one way or another. That much was a certainty. The quickest way to an answer would simply be to ask though. Most anything else could be confirmed through sight alone.

How disappointing. Here in all the fervor he had worked up, Nazomi had only found another genin; this fact evident by the identifying headband the boy wore around his head. A singular shame at least, there was still potential for a sparring partner at least. Or there would have been had the face not been so new. The younger man in front of him lacked the smell of blood as well. Perhaps he was another of the new class that graduated not long ago; they graduated being more prominent as of late. He had been wrong before of course, others that age having already passed by the emerald haired shinobi in rank. Odd though, that his choice in clothing mirrored the necromancer’s own in some ways. Realizing he had observed too long, the awkward silence was broken as Nazomi drew the hood on his gi.

“I’ll assume you and I share common blood. Otherwise you have no excuse here do you?” The corners of his lips curled as he spoke, showing a pleasant enough facade. All in the hope that had his fellow shinobi not be capable of offering what Nazomi currently sought, that he might be able to coax the boy into returning to the spot until he was a bit stronger. Had the necromancer’s eyes been fools once more though, it would be best to ply his next actions off as a means to humble himself to his better. In either case, little subterfuges like this made life all the more worth while. At the very least he would be entertained for the next few minutes.

“Who are you to claim to know the secrets of my blood?” How thrilling! The necromancer had been nothing short of delighted by the response he had been given. The spark the boy showed was bright enough to light the room had it needed it. Of course it had been somewhat of an adversarial retort, a guarded look the younger genin’s face. To think, to ask such presumptuous question. Of course Nazomi knew of it; he knew of the pain it his body with constant use. He was aware that amongst his clan he was a rarity, capable of feeling said torment. In it he took delight, in it he took satisfaction. Within his blood, he took all that was afforded to him and more.

The more he continued to think the question to himself, the more it amused. Laughter rose, a bellowing sound that was barely contained behind the palm Nazomi used to cover his mouth. His cackling did not cease, only continued growing to the point that both ribs and chest ached with breathless joy caused pain. When he could no longer muster the air to continue his fit, the necromancer looked back toward his comrade, a curl in his lips before finally straightening once more. Why acknowledge a question like that with words? It made such a bigger impact to simply show what could be done.

A singular finger curled, the bone twisting within it causing only minor discomfort. Slowly but surely the talon developed; first piercing the small veil of skin under the nail, then dislodging the nail itself, the bloody cuticle falling without a sound to the floor. The edged claw, still glistening with a coat of pink, almost shone in the eerie light that invaded the dojo through crack and window alike. With a renewed chuckle Nazomi dragged the carving blade against his own forearm, a delightful shudder produced, the pleasure derived captured in his face oblivious to the necromancer, not that he was ashamed of it. It was the beauty of his curse more or less, to feel, to be alive! Anyone who degraded it into less would do best to avoid speaking it aloud in his presence. He would damn himself before allowing the comfort of others fell his ability to express the rush of existence that flowed through him at the moment.

Prying apart the newly created slit his fingers crept inward, delving into the tissue of his arm until they stroke against the still slick bone being fashioned to his whim. In all the excitement Nazomi preemptively yanked it from its womb. A hollow tube, holes decorating it, some still forming as some unknown invisible heat seared through it, the liquid marrow that resulted flowing out from the end as he tapped it against his leg. Bringing it to his lips, only a note would escape the necromancer before the dissatisfaction his fellow genin caused had forced him to abandon his sudden pursuit of melody.

The younger genin had acted reviled; wide eyed and shaking like a doe. But even in his back-pedaling the shinobi attempted to stare down the necromancer. That had been enough to recompense for the actions that surrounded the odd behavior. Perhaps the boy was not of Kaguya blood after all. It occurred to Nazomi that his fellow genin’s corpse bone might not have manifested as of yet though. A dilemma of sorts; whether or not to go through with his little plot now that he had been insulted in such a way. The thought of deviating from plan was not as appealing as he had hoped though. It seemed there was no real reason not to continue.

“Any man would do well to observe closely when another so brazenly preforms for them. Make note of that.”Shrugging his gi back, Nazomi revealed his shoulder, a growing lump forming on it. Within a moment the bump ripped, revealing a small bone tip which he suddenly grasped. Pulling the spike from his body it grew within his hand, creating a bone spear which he just as suddenly slammed into the ground. It was merely a tool to demonstrate for the time being, as he had no desire to use one of the weakened supports. The training dummies would have been useless as well, their straw bodies unable to properly convey what it was the technique did.

“I assume you learned in the academy how to manipulate your chakra? Well I never had any such formal training. At least none I can remember. But this should be easier for you to do if you understand.” Placing a finger against the stationary pike Nazomi felt the flow of chakra within his arm begin to surge, his eyes closing as he attempted to remember the feeling that had been so demanding of his attention the last time. His breathing calmed, the tips of his fingers tingled with the tingle of energy being directed into them.

“The idea is simple really. Energy, unless used in volume is often lost in an exchange, but when that same amount is focused through a single conduit, the results can be increasingly useful. Through contact like this, I imagine a beam passing through the bone itself. I believe someone else called it a finite use of control.” With that, Nazomi felt the beam of chakra, invisible as it was, spring from his finger. It had left the surface of the pike unmarred, but as shown by a simple weak pinch, the innard of the spear where it had passed through had been hollowed out, disintegrated by the flow of energy that had tore through it. Taking the now brittle weapon, it took only the clenching of his fists to turn the normally formidable weapon into dust.

“One of several techniques I’ve been toying with really. The only other I currently can preform is not as...refined a means of attack. None the less it is effective in its own right.” A sudden step past the younger genin and Nazomi was upon a training dummy. While the previous jutsu might have been less useful against it, the one he intended to display now would work well on most any solid enough object. Again, his finger press against the intended target, his chakra pooling once more in response.

“The idea behind this one...well, when I use it I imagine a thin colored wall stretching over the spot I touch...” Nazomi removed his finger, placing it against the dummy’s forehead while stepping upon one of the spokes that made up its stand. With the same release of chakra that he had left on its torso, the necromancer allowed the welled energy to follow with it this time. The deafening boom that came as a result of the two different chakra meeting tore the head from the dummy, sending it tumbling across the floor. With a glance back he continued to explain.

“ As I said, you’ll no doubt have a better understanding of how it works given you’ve had the honor of teachers. I can only explain it as I make it happen. After creating this chakra wall, I let a little ball of a differing color collide with that wall, breaking it and causing, well, that.” Nazomi grinned while pointing toward the discarded head, moving his finger back to the previous point before finishing the explanation. “But, once you have created this wall, it should remain for long enough that even if you need to break contact, you should be able to hit it again without need to recreate another wall to achieve the explosion.” Given time to learn himself, the necromancer would have been able to offer a more technical explanation. That for the moment was not an option.

Again Nazomi smirked, his head tilted to the side as another spike rose up from his shoulder. Removing the crudely fashioned weapon, another replaced it just as quickly, Nazomi repeating this in succession several times, leaving each jammed into the dojo floor. Their point should be obvious, or so he would hope. Just to be sure though, he made an off hand comment that when he returned next that he expected that they be no more than dust. If that hadn’t made his message clear then he had really been wasting his time. Looking at the younger shinobi, he doubted his time had been ill spent though. With his purpose served for the time being however the necromancer turned and left, yanking the old wooden door as he did.

Swaying back into the tree line, he paused, placing his hand against a tree. Upon contact a circle expanded, black symbols stretched out. Pulling the appendage away a familiar caw marked the entrance of Fey, and several more crows that seemed no more than an extension of the jester bird. Provided his fellow genin had not followed the necromancer, he was safe to converse with the summon creature for the moment.

“You know the dojo I took you too that one time? The one I cooked you at? There’s a boy there, I want you to keep an eye on him for me. Report back to me what he does, and don’t let on that you’re not natural.” Of course, Fey being Fey, immediately made a joke involving Nazomi’s sexual preference and small boys. Had he the time, the bird would have most likely been flash fried and half way eaten. It would have to wait for another day; he was going to be late as it was for his assignment. All this meant was that the crow had a day of slow torture and cooking to look forward to with its summoner had more time.

Taking the opportunity given to him, Fey cracked a few more comments at the departing genin, all of which continued to dig at the necromancer. He had his own way of keeping calm though, going through the various recipes he intended to use when roasting the bird yet again. For some reason whisky battered sounded particularly appealing to the senses; that and it gave Nazomi yet another good reason to buy more liquor than he really needed or could consume at one given time. It wouldn’t stop him from trying, that was the fun part. With the details made known as to what was awaiting him during the coming mission, a more abundant supply of spirits was going to be needed than what he usually required.

It began with a whimper...

A pathetic mewling sound unwillingly ushered forth from Janos's half-open lips, splitting the already-sundered silence broken by the sound of his fall. He knew, then, that the game was up; footsteps approached as shortened breaths drew ever-closer to where he lay in disarray. He was convinced his demise approached in tandem with those ominous footsteps, walking alongside whoever walked his way. He began to shiver, the fear sending tingles up his spine.

He felt the terror in his very bones...

The door inside the decaying building creaked open; dust poured through the new pathway as if preceding the arrival of the building's prior occupant. He monopolized the boy's attention, taking precedence over the moldy grandeur of the building. Decrepit in its decadence, the structure was still something to be admired, four walls potent with the memories and deeds of friend and foe.

Standing there, granted a shimmering halo by the swirling dust, stood...a mere Genin. Janos began to shake, quivering with internal laughter; he had feared far worse than this. It just goes to show how far the mind can distort events, changing proportion and perspective of the mind. The older man standing before him was topped with an unruly head of hair in a startling shade of green. Their outfits, though disparate, echoed each other eerily; each lacked a sleeve on the opposite side of the other. Though surely mere coincidence, the similarity unnerved Janos.

Finally, the stranger broke the awkward silence; "I'll assume you and I share common blood. Otherwise, you have no excuse here, do you?" His lips seemed to attempt to smile, achieving only a feral echo of pleasantry. For a moment, Janos was unsure how to respond. Even if the stranger's claims rang true, how could he know the bloodline techniques Janos possessed?

Unless...

Well, there was only one way to be sure.

"Who are you to claim to know the secrets of my blood?" Janos retorted, hoping to gain something from the exchange. He never was one to shy away from a fight, whether it be with swords, fists, or words, and this shinobi seemed perversely thrilled by the aggression in his tone and voice. Who was this stranger, to react in such a manner? What mysteries lay behind those cryptic eyes?

His response seemed to amuse the stranger, and his laughter began to echo chillingly in the confined space. Eventually, the Genin managed to contain himself, glancing at Janos with a strange expression. The novice ninja watched the older man intently, intuiting correctly that something momentous, to him at least, was about to occur.

It looks like...no, it couldn't be...something strange was happening to the man's finger. It looked as if...as if the bone itself is squirming within.

Janos's malleable skeleton echoed the movement, his talons making themselves known once more.

But...but no, it couldn't be...

Now the man seemed to be deliberately tearing into the flesh of his forearm, ripping out the bone inside. Janos's stomach wrenched; only force of will kept his food where he belonged. He brought the thing to his lips...

My God, that's DISGUSTING, Why would anyone even WANT to--How can he--How could anyone but I do such a thing?! It can't be. It just--just can't be...

Janos's internal monologue drifted off into silence just as the stranger ceased his symphonic attempts at noise, but his eyes never left the disgusting excuse for a ninja standing before him.

"Any man would do well to observe closely when another so brazenly performs for them. Make a note of that."

Though, in the opinion of the masses, the Adachi child knew very little about bloodline techniques, let alone his own, he understood enough to know that they must be passed down through the ninja's very blood. The thought that this man shared his jeans was revolting; though he clearly possessed power, he deserved nothing more than pity.

The...well, he MUST be a Kaguya...grasped a bone emerging from the tip of his shoulder and pulled it out; it molded into the shape of a large spear in his very hands. He slammed it into the ground, the shockwave undulating the floor of the weakened building.

He began to talk about chakra, though for what purpose Janos could not divine. He seemed to be lecturing the younger Genin, as if he wished to see Janos advance his techniques, perhaps equalling or surpassing the apparent teacher. He did something to the bone, then pinched it; it fell to dust between his calloused hands. Janos widened his eyes involuntary and drew backwards; he had yet to command such power. Perhaps this man deserved his attention as well as his pity.

He tried to pay closer attention to the next technique, but his mind was filled with too many new revelations to give it the focus it deserved; and to be blunt, the explanation was rather nonsensical; all he gathered from it was that it required a mere press of a finger and the appropriate control of chakra to generate astonishing results.

This time, he pressed a single finger against a training dummy. The resulting noise made Janos wince, and, for once, avert his piercing stare. When he had recovered enough to look back, the dummy's head had been propelled across the room by the force of this man's chakra. It was astonishing; Janos had never been privy to Ninjutsu of this calibre before. He was quite proficient at a few basic techniques, but nothing designed purely for the attack. This intrigued him. He wanted more...

After shoving several more hardened weapons into the floor, the shinobi seemed content to leave, even having the consideration to close the door behind him. For the first time since the door was opened, Janos moved, walking cautiously towards the suureal objects planted in the floor. He brushed his fingers across one; it was as it had appeared, solid bone. Though well aware that the shinobi may return at any time, he appreciated the privacy. It was a common gesture, that of...the thought chilled him...family.

He attempted, tentatively, to focus his chakra the way the man demonstrated into one point on the end on his finger, then touch it to the bone.

"AAAH!" He leapt back, just as a fizzling noise loudly echoed through the room. His finger throbbed alarmingly, and curse words filled the air. He glanced at his finger between winces of pain and saw that he had apparently used the jutsu on himself rather than the bone; the digit was bloody and torn.

Through the pain, he tried to focus on the power this interesting technique would bring him. He reached forth again, cradling his arm at his side, with a finger of the opposite hand. This time, focusing his chakra on a point inside the bone. He felt a discharge, but his inger remained intact. Grinning inwardly, he punched the bone with all his strength.

It did shatter, but the bones in his hand would have as well if not for his bloodline ability. Cries of fury and injured pride once again echoed through the abandoned halls of the facility. After a few agonizing moments, he recovered. The third time, the technique produced the desired result.

"YES!" He cried, for once unconscious of whoever might be observing him. Coincidentally, just then, a bizarre crow flew through the open skylight, spewing obscenities in the human tongue. Janos was dumbfounded. He reacted instinctually - focusing a larger portion of his chakra at the feathered projectile flying at his head, he reached out with an extended finger...

It ended with a bang.

Ready for judging

Bitchy Amazon Tag; just in case the headline ain't clear. XD

Nazomi: 40 LP, Ketatamashii (wtf on the name DX), Corpse Bone Talons (Freddy Kruger FTW)
Janos: 30 LP, Bakuyaku, Ketatamashii (mouthful jutsu no jutsu!)

Lookin' good boys.